


Just one wish

by Madame_Xela



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Female Bilbo, Fix-It of Sorts, Genderswap, Gold Sickness, Lobelia and Bilbo are not-best friends, M/M, Pregnancy, Sick Thorin, Thorin Is an Idiot, and is a dick at first
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-14
Updated: 2013-11-09
Packaged: 2017-12-11 21:28:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/803448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madame_Xela/pseuds/Madame_Xela
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thráin II, son of Thorin Oakenshield, King Under the Mountain, had just one wish: to get his Mama back. </p><p>However, thing are not quite that simple.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Short prologue, next chapter will be longer.

Thráin II, son of Thorin Oakenshield, King Under the Mountain, had a very strict bedtime routine. After his bath, Daddy and Auntie would kiss him goodnight. Fíli and Kíli would stay behind to tuck him in and tell him a story.

“And what story do you want us to tell you tonight, little one?” They would ask, though they already knew the answer.

“Mama!” he will shout. In his tiny hands he clutches a worn blue waistcoat and a lovingly knitted blanket that is only just older than he is. He will crawl over his cousins and pull out an album of drawings of a beautiful hobbit woman, some colored and some not, with honey colored hair and eyes of emerald. He will open to a random page, point to a picture, and demand the story behind it. Fíli and Kíli tell each story with great enthusiasm, but though there is a smile on their faces, their eyes are sad.

These few items and these precious stories are all the young prince has of his mother. Every time he asks about her he is told that she had to leave a long time ago-shortly after he was bone-, but she loves him more than life itself.

“See Mama?”

“Maybe someday soon, little one.” Everyone will tell him, though they will send these looks at Daddy.

Daddy ignores them.

They never go to Mama, and Mama doesn’t come to them.

But he wishes, oh does he wish that he could get just _one_ hug from his Mama. He wishes he could get a look at her, to see if she is as beautiful as the drawings Uncle Ori made. He wishes she could sing him to sleep (Daddy doesn’t do that). He wishes she would patch him up and kiss his boo-boos better instead of sending him off to Óin or Auntie like Daddy does. He just wishes she was there.

“Where Mama?”

Everybody stared at him…

*

_“Bella dear, you need to push.”_

_“No, he’ll take my baby!”_

_“Bella you can’t keep him in there forever.”_

_“Watch me!”_

_“Bella! The babe wants to come out! Now push!”_

_*_

_“My dear, it’s a boy.”_

_“Let me hold him.”_

_“Bella, you know what the King said…”_

_“Please! Just once…”_

_“Fine…”_

_*_

_“Gandalf, get the traitor out of my kingdom.”_

_“I do not think it wise Thorin-”_

_“I am a King and you should address me as such! It is out of kindness that I let her live, but should you not remove her, I will.”_


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! I uploaded a chapter on my birthday!

Thráin was a beautiful child. Anyone could attest to that. Bella’s honey curls, Thorin’s eyes, Bella’s smile, Thorin’s rounded ears, and of course the chubbiness from the baby fat. Many a dwarf (and even the occasional man and elf) adored the child. When he laughed, they laughed, when he smiled, the room lit up.

The only being who seemed unaffected by the charms of the child was his father. Though, to be fair, nothing truly affected him save for the gems and metals of the mountain. That did not mean that he did not love his son, for he did. He just couldn’t look at those dimpled cheeks and toothy smile because every time that he did, all he could see was the traitor. She smiled like that. So bright and kind and happy and-

**_It was nothing more than a lie, a trick. She was nothing more than a witch. She almost ran away with your child._ **

Yes. She almost ran away with his child. She had almost fled to her Shire with her belly only just beginning to swell with their- _HIS_ son he had kept her so she wouldn’t raise his child to hate him

**_She would come back, with your son, and steal your crown, your mountain, your gold, your Arkenstone._ **

Yes, the voice had helped Thorin put a stop to the madness before any more chaos befell his beloved Erebor. So he banished Bella and kept their… _his_ child once she had birthed him.

If Fíli and Kíli hated him for it, they would get over it. A king has to make harsh decisions from time to time and they needed to learn that.

If Balin looked at him disapprovingly for the next five and a half years he ignored it. He just didn’t understand what Thorin had stopped.

If the rest of the company-including the ever loyal Dwalin-started to worry about his sanity he glared until they kept their concerns to themselves.

(And every night, when he kissed his son’s brow before placing him in his cradle, he would just stare at his son. And while he stared, the hissing voice that whispered all of those hateful things about Bella receded and was replaced with a voice that sounded suspiciously like Gandalf.

_He’s too small, even for a hobbit child, and the birth came too early._

_You should have listened to Gandalf. You should have kept her longer._

_She loved you, and the child. What kind of man separates a mother from her child? A monster._

**_She would have taken the Arkenstone, she did it once._ **

_To save the lives of the Company and your unborn child._

Thorin would growl and press his palms to his eyes. When the voices started arguing he would always get a headache. Instead of going to Óin-because how could he tell the healer that there were voices arguing in his head without whispers starting up again?-he went back to his study to drink until the voices were silent.)

*

Almost six months before Thráin’s sixth birthday Thorin was locked away in his study overlooking some paperwork for a new mine shaft that was just opened, when Dwalin burst in.

“Majesty I-!”

“-There better be a good reason for you to have come in unannounced.”

“Trust me, Sire, it’s important. It’s Thráin…” He needn’t say more.

*

Despite being almost six, Thráin had the mentality and appearance of a human child somewhere between eighteen months and two years old. And that meant tantrums from hell.

(Though a usually mild-manner child, when he had a fit, it was monstrous)

Thráin’s room, once filled with the finest furniture and toys and blankets and clothing that the king could buy, was a disaster. His toys were torn and broken, clothes thrown on the floor, the lighter furniture knocked over, and in the center of the mess stood Thráin. His face blotchy and wet and in his hands he held a blue and white bundle and a leather bound book.

“Where Mama?!” The little boy demanded. Everyone stared at him.

No one knew how to tell him that she was on the other side of Middle Earth, and returning was punishable by death.

They didn’t know how to tell him that it was his father that sent her away for trying to protect them.

The dirty looks that Dís, Fíli and Kíli shot Thorin would have made any lesser being piss themselves. The rest of the old Company that were present, the Ri brothers, Dwalin and Balin, and Bofur, were too busy trying to calm the child to notice the arrival of their king.

“What is the meaning of this?” Thorin asked softly, but with no small amount of authority. All eyes, excluding his son who was still blubbering, turned to him.

“Well dear brother,” His sister spoken slowly and eerily soft, each word promising the king a world of pain. “It seems that your son had finally had enough. He needs his mother Thorin, and has needed her since the day he left her womb. And you took that away from him. She gave you everything: your son, your kingdom, your home, your _life_ …and you threw her away without thinking of the consequences. _This_ is your consequence, Thorin; a son who misses one woman that he cannot remember more than anything.”

“That’s nonsense”

“It really isn’t Uncle, he asks about her all of the time. And Thráin isn’t the only one who misses Bella.” Fíli said. His brother bowed his head at the mention of their almost-aunt.

“And who misses the traitor?” No one spoke, but the looks of guilt said it all. “ _All_ of you? How could you miss the wretch who gave away my Arkenstone to the _elves_?!”

“She did it to keep us alive!”

**_She’s gotten the rest of your kin ensnared with her magic._** “Can you not see that the witch was just using us? She wanted the throne, the gold, she was going to take my son and poison him against me! She-OW!” Thráin, tired of his father badmouthing his mother, had run up to him and sunk his teeth into his arm.

“MAMA NICE!”

Thorin sucked in a breath. The child was defending her when he didn’t even understand how treacherous she was. He would be forgiven this once. “Thráin, apologize.”

“NO!”

“Thráin…”

“NO! YOU MEAN!”

**_He has too much of his mother in him._** Yes, he did. **_It could cause trouble._** Most likely. **_He could try to take your throne._** Maybe… **_Perhaps it’s better to dispose of him before he turns on you like she did._**

…WHAT? This was his _son_ , he wouldn’t…he couldn’t….

_Bella was your One. The only being you will ever love in your lifetime, and you ripped her baby from her breast and cast her away like she was nothing._

But this was his son! His flesh and blood, the one thing he loved more than his gold and the Arkenstone…

_Liar. You love nothing more than your metals and gems. Not your One, not your son._

His head hurt. Reaching up with one hand, he rubbed at his temple. “That’s not true…” he whispered. No one heard him.

“HATE YOU!” Thorin’s eyes snapped to his son. Eyes so similar to his own, yet so different. So angry and sad and broken. No child should look like that. In that moment he looked so much like his mother that Thorin was almost certain that he was looking at her. And had it been any other time he would have scowled and drunken until he passed out in his rooms. But this time he couldn’t move-couldn’t even breathe. It hurt to breathe, like he was submerged under water with no way up.

Thráin hated him. Thráin hated him and had gone his entire life without his mother because Thorin banished her for saving his life.

**_You don’t need them. You don’t need any of them._ **

“Stop it. ENOUGH!” The king cried as he pressed both hands to his head and fell to the ground, ignorant of the way that everyone else jumped away from him. He just wanted that poisonous voice out of his head. That voice had turned him against his family against his Bella…

Oh Mahal, _Bella_.

Sweet, beautiful, smart Bella.

“What have I done?” He felt sick. Bracing himself against the floor, he dry-heaved and coughed until his body convulsed. Fíli and Kíli raced to his side. His sister picked up Thráin and held him high on her hip. The poor boy stared wide-eyed at his father as coughs and sobs wracked through his body.

After what seemed like hours (but in reality was no more than a few minutes) Thorin’s heaving stopped, leaving the King sobbing in his nephews’ arms.

“Laddie, are you alright?” Balin asked, making Thorin let out a bitter laugh.

“Yes and no. For the first time in years I can think clearly. The only voice in my head is my own (Dís’s eyes widened at her brother’s words.) and every decision I’ve made, every horrible mistake is right there at the forefront of my mind because I wasn’t strong enough to stop them.” The one word left unsaid screamed in the silence.

**Bella**

“Daddy?” Thráin peeked his head out from his aunt’s shoulder, eyes wide and guilty. He wiggled his little body until she placed him on the ground. He tottered up to his father, staring up at him but not reaching out. “’M sowry Daddy. Don’ hate you. No more cwrying, ‘kay? M’ sowry.”

If Thorin thought that his heart had been torn before, now it had crumbled to dust. “Oh…oh Thráin no. You have nothing to be sorry for. I should be _thanking_ you, my love. You helped Daddy get better.” He pulled his son into his lap.

“You cwrying…”

“I was crying, yes. But it’s because I’m better. Thráin, I’m so sorry. I am so sorry for everything.”  The tears started again. Thorin cried tears of shame and anger and heartbreak into his son’s curls. Thrain just cried into his Daddy’s chest, happy that he was finally better. Dís wasn’t sure why she was crying. It could have been because her brother had fallen victim to the Gold Madness like their grandfather and had basically ruined his life. Or it could be that he was finally free from the sickness.

For several moments, all was silent, and then…

“Thráin, would you like go meet your mother?”

*

In a hole in the ground (Not the hole that you are thinking of, the one that was so lovingly built by Bungo Baggins for his beloved wife Belladonna; this one was far smaller but no less lovingly made.) behind a little blue door there was a small gathering of just under a dozen hobbits. Lobelia Sackville-Baggins threw these little dinners several times a month inviting only a few family members and friends. She would tell people that it was because they all had some catching up to do, but the real reason was she wanted her dear cousin Bella out of her smial.

When she came back from her…adventure she was broken. She had come home to find a group of Hobbits trying to unlock her door to get her belongs out to be sold. Instead of yelling or dragging them off of her property while chastising them like the old Bella would do, this Bella hadn’t even given them a look as she walked pasted and locked herself away for almost a month. Lobelia brought her seven meals a day but Bella only ever ate two and never came out of her room, preferring to stay hidden away to knit, sew and crochet. (And when Lobelia finally saw her cousin again, she wanted to march straight across Middle Earth and beat the stupid dwarf king to a bloody pulp with her umbrella).

“Just one more stitch and…it’s…finished!” Bella smiled proudly as she showed off the warm-looking quilt to her cousins. It was large for a faunt (though perhaps big enough to bundle a half-faunt half-dwarf comfortably), deep blue with bright images of plants and fishes.  

“That’s one lovely blanket you’ve got there.” Otho mentally pat himself on the back when his honey-haired cousin grinned at him.

“Thank you Otho! It feels like it’s taken me forever to finish it!”

Thirty-two year old Primula Brandybuck held the edges lovingly. “Oh Aunty, it’s wonderful. Just like all the others. Are you going to put this in the chest or the box?” Otho and Drogo froze.

“This is for the chest. This is for…him. I would put his name on it but…” Tears welled in Bella’s eyes. Primula cupped her face with both hands and kissed the top of her head. The men looked on sadly.

“I know Aunty, I know. I’m sure…I’m sure he’ll love it.”

“Do you really think so?”

Unable to answer, Primula nodded. Otho and Drogo shared a heartbroken look over the women’s heads. This was not the first time that something of this nature had happened, and it would sadly not be the last. Thankfully, Lobelia chose that moment to come in.

“Dinner!” From the other room, there was a crash and giggles from several children.

Lotho came in (the eighteen year old struggling under the weight of six other children) with Primula’s youngest brother and his baby sister held tightly in his arms, Drogo’s young sister perched on his shoulders, another one of Primula’s brother’s attached to his back, and two more children latched onto his leg.

The adults smiled. But, even though Bella smiled, her eyes were sad. There was room right in between the two youngest for one more child to hang from Lotho’s neck…

…Though sadly, that would never be. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is so late! I thought I had posted this weeks ago!

_“Bella Baggins! Open this door right now!”_

_“Lobelia, please…just go away.”_

_“No! It’s been long enough Bella! We’re worried sick about you! I’m counting to three, and then I’m coming in. One…”_

_“Lobelia, don’t be ridiculous.”_

_“Two…”_

_“You wouldn’t.”_

_“Thr-”_

_“FINE!”_

_“Thank you for seeing it my…way…O-oh Bella, what happened?”_

_“Lobelia…he…my baby…”_

_“Oh Bell, your arms! Why-what’s that?”_

*

News of the King’s upcoming trip to the Shire spread like wildfire within the company. All were excited to get their burglar back, but a few could not go on the journey. Glóin, Balin, Bombur and Óin stayed behind because they were either too old for another journey or needed to stay behind with their families (Ori tried to insist that Dori was too old to go, which earned him a smack upside his head and an earful that had him complaining for days.)

Thorin made formal announcement renouncing Bella’s banishment. There were several dwarves who weren’t too happy about that, but anyone who spoke out was silenced thanks to the combined efforts of Dwalin and Nori. A terrifying duo, those two. One could only imagine the horrors the naysayers suffered at their hands.

Within the week of the announcement, Thorin had several ponies saddled and packed. The group (adding ten of Erebor’s finest warriors for protection) chose to leave early and ride until the sun set to cover as much ground as possible. Balin and Dís (both co-ruling Erebor in Thorin’s absence) saw them off at the gate.

“Laddie, I wish you all of the luck in the world. With that hobbit o’ yours, you’re going to need it.”

“My thanks, old friend.”

Dís stared at her brother, not saying a word. But her eyes screamed ‘you will fix this’. “Those boys better be safe. Or I will hunt you down.”

The King pulled his sister into a tight embrace. “I will miss you too sister.”

*

Riding with a young child was hard; no matter how excited he was for the journey or how many times he was told that the journey with a long and he needed to behave. After sitting still for a few hours Thráin was bored and decided to take his boredom out on everyone else.  The child fussed and tried to slip off the pony to run around and play.  As a result, the group had to make several long stops along the way.

*

Their first stop was Dale. It was a short visit, mainly to greet Bard and check up on the renovation process.

Bard crouched in front of Thráin, offering him a smile. “Where are you all off to, Little Prince?”

“Find Mama!” Bard didn’t smile again until they were well out of Dale.

*

Their Second stop was Mirkwood…

It was common knowledge that elves and dwarves were not on the friendliest of terms.  But their reception in Mirkwood was downright ridiculous.  The only one treated with any semblance of kindness and respect from the elves was Thráin.  That is not to say that the dwarves were treated with open hostility, but neither did the elves keep their anger a secret.

They whispered within hearing distance, fed them little and only vegetables (not even sweet fruits with cream for dessert) and gave them the smallest rooms as possible. They spoke mostly in Sindarin around the dwarves, knowing that the dwarves could not understand their language. Though there were times where young Ori would look pensive or sick. When asked, he would reply: ‘It was something that the elves said. But I don’t understand their language well so I could have mistranslated.’  And that would end the conversation.

They didn’t stay in Mirkwood long.

*

Beorn was kinder to them, but when left alone with the dwarf King he became cold and distant. Thorin didn’t bother asking what he had done wrong, it obviously had to do with Bella (what didn’t nowadays?).

When they left the skin changer’s house, Thorin thanked him for taking them in and for helping Bella (for how could he not help his little ‘bunny’ friend?) all of those years ago.

“I tried to help her, dwarf, but bunny did not accept it.”

*

They skipped Rivendell.

(No Kíli he was not hiding from the elves. He just didn’t want to deal with their orc shit.)

*

Bree was only an overnight stay. They were so close to their destination!

“Oh, I can taste that cheese already!” Bofur cried into his pint.

“No y’can’t. Shut up.”

“I can too! Just think lads, in just a few days we’ll be seeing our burglar again!” Ah, but was that a good thing or a bad thing?

*

Hobbiton was just like it had been all those years before: green, sunny, vibrant, and full of life.  Several little hobbitlings (fauntlings or faunts, as Bella had told them several times) ran about playing games in the open fields, giggling and shrieking.  Catching sight of the caravan, several children stopped what they were doing and ran to find their parents. Nervous little babes.

The further they walked into Hobbiton, the more hobbits they encountered, naturally. All but two little hobbits either ignored them, or gave them dirty looks (though this was only done by a few brave adults). Two curious children who came toddling over at the sight of the ponies...

Both looked to be Thráin’s age (or the hobbit equivalent), with dark curls and green eyes. The one to reach them first (a little girl by the looks of her) had her curls tied into two pigtails under the handkerchief tied on her head.  She grinned at them, dropping the ends of her dirt stained green skirt to wave.  Her brother (for it was obvious that he was her brother) followed much more slowly, but was no less excited despite how he tried to hide it.

“Hi!” she said, more to Thráin than anyone.  “’M Laurel, dis Basil!  Wat you name?”

From his spot perched on his father’s lap, Thráin giggled and squirmed (when he smacked Thorin’s nose everyone wisely stayed silent, even Fíli and Kíli) telling the children that he was Thráin and this was part of his family.  He pointed to Thorin saying that he was his father, and then to Fíli and Kíli saying that they were his cousins. It was rare for the little prince to talk to anyone his age, and after that long journey this was a welcome treat!

“Oh, why you here den?” Basil asked at the same time that his sister asked “Where you mummy?” this sent Thráin into a long winded explanation that only a child could come up with about how they were going to find his mama and bring her home with them.

Before anything else could be said, an adult hobbit came rushing over.  “Come now little Miss Laurel, little Master Basil, it’s time to get you home.  It’s almost time for supper.  Yer mam would have my hide if you missed it.” With that, he herded the children away without so much as a ‘good day’ to the dwarves.

“Has anyone else noticed how unwelcoming these hobbits are being?” Kíli asked.

“Well, they are secretive race.  It’s possible that are being unwelcoming because they don’t like strangers.” Ori pointed out.

Kíli didn’t look so sure.  “I guess…  ”

Dori opened his mouth to speak, but closed it after a second thought.

*   

It was decided within the group that they would get several rooms at the Green Dragon for the night, but before that Fíli and Kíli would march up to Bag End to check up on Bella.

To be honest, as the boys walked up the familiar steps, they were quite nervous as to what would be behind the green door. Would Bella even want to see them again (even though she told them several times that she adored them and loved them like her own)? Did she even live here anymore? Had she made it back to the shire after being banished? Was she even alive?

All these questions plagued their thoughts as they reached for the doorbell.  The brothers looked at each other.  “Do you want to…?” Fíli asked.

“No, by all means you go ahead.” Kíli replied.

And so Fíli rang the bell.

The woman who answered the door was _not_ their aunt.  She had red hair pulled up tightly in a complicated twist that kept it out of her face so they could see piercing blue eyes and the sharp features.  The moment she laid eyes on them, her eyes hardened and she not so subtly reached for something by the door that the boys couldn’t see.

“Umm …” Kíli started.

“What do you two want?”

Fíli cleared his throat.  “Does-umm-Does Bella Baggins live here?”

“No.”

The boys look heartbroken.  “Then can you please tell us–”

“No.”

“Why-?”

“-Lobelia? Who’s at the door?” Another voice called from another room (probably the kitchen since was just after Supper time, so she was probably cleaning up). The boys would know that voice anywhere.  That was the voice that had sung to them night after night (‘to practice for the baby’), that had cried and screamed and begged Uncle to actually stop and think about what he was doing-that he wasn’t acting like himself, that would tell them stories of her childhood and of the Shire to hide her worries. That was the voice that didn’t belong in Bag End if Bella no longer lived there.

She didn’t come to investigate, which the evil hobbit woman used to her advantage. “No one, Bella dear. Just some hooligans looking to cause trouble.”

“Is it Paladin’s lot again? I swear you would think that boy is twelve not a week away from thirty three!”

Lobelia seemed to find what she was looking for. It was a pink umbrella with a sharp end pointed right at them. “Not. A. Word.” She hissed at them. “You lot have done enough damage.” Louder, she called out: “Yes Dear, it’s Paladin’s lot. Don’t you worry, I’ll send them off on their merry way.”

“Oh nonsense! Let them in for some pie. It’s probably why they came here in the first…place.” When Bella stepped out of the kitchen, the boys got there first look at their aunt in six years.  Honestly, she didn’t look much different.  She was tanner, filled out more, with a few wrinkles and gray hairs but other than that she was the same.  The look she gave them was so shocked that the boys froze, with Kíli barely managing to choke out ‘Auntie…’

That one little word opened the floodgates. Bella ordered Lobelia out of the way so she could run up to the boys. They weren’t sure if she was going to hit them, or hug them, but they were thrilled when she chose the latter. She held them like her life depended on it, and they held onto her tighter.

“Oh my boys, I’ve missed you.” She said through her tears. She pressed kisses to their hair, foreheads, and bearded cheeks stopping only to comment on the impressive amount of hair that was now on Kíli’s chin. Several minutes they spent holding each other.  The boys would definitely admit to shedding tears, and Bella couldn’t pretend she didn’t even if she wanted to.

If given the choice, the trio probably would have stood there forever. But alas, they were not given the choice.

Lobelia cleared her throat, her foot tapping impatiently against the floor.

“Lobelia…”

“Don’t, Bella.  Do not, after everything tell me that you still trust these… _Dwarves_.  After what they did to you…”

“These two sat by my side while I was pregnant, against the orders of their King and were my biggest supporters. They begged every day for the King to see reason, and though nothing ever came from it, I warmed my heart to know that they tried.”

Lobelia scoffed. “Well they clearly didn’t try enough!”

Kíli stiffened and Fíli frowned. “Now Lobelia-”

“No, Auntie. She’s right. We could have done so much more. We _should_ have. We should have gotten you out to have Thráin somewhere safe. We should have done more…”

“Thráin….is that…”

“Yes.”

“Thráin…” The name, though foreign on her tongue, befit the prince of Erebor. Her baby. “Can you…can you tell me about him?”

“We would love to, Auntie, but right now we have to get back to our group.” The hobbit’s face started to fall. “J-Just to check in! We’ve only just arrived in the Shire and need a bit of rest. If you’d like we can come over for lunch tomorrow and tell you all about him! That is, if you don’t mind a few rowdy dwarves over.”

The Hobbit woman smiled. “Don’t you dare blunt my knives.” The boys shared a grin.

“Never!”

“We might bend the forks though!” Bella tugged Kíli’s beard for that comment.

“Do you mind if we bring a few others? There are some people who are very eager to see you.” They didn’t mention any names, which should have made Bella say no, but she found herself agreeing nonetheless under the stipulation that they come straight over after elevensies.

“Yes Auntie!”

“See you tomorrow!”

*

“How rude of them, inviting themselves to lunch.”

“They’re good boys Lobelia.”

“I sincerely doubt it.”

*

At the Green Dragon, Fíli and Kíli burst in announcing that Bella agreed to Lunch. A cheer rose from all but one dwarf. He wasn’t sure if he was invited (though the answer was probably NO) and honestly, he was too wrapped up in his thoughts about Bella to be too upset over the lack of invitation.

“Okay, here’s the plan. Tomorrow we…”

*

All those years ago, when she had first had her dwarves over, the visit had been unexpected and therefore her boys were severely underfed (by hobbit standards. Bombur had assured her several times that the meal was more than sufficient and had kept even himself satisfied for many hours). Now, with time to prepare, Bella planned to show her boys true hobbit hospitality.

She hadn’t known how many were coming, Fíli and Kíli hadn’t said. But she planned on the entire company (‘Minus one. He wouldn’t leave his beloved kingdom to see a lowly hobbit’) and enlisted the help of Primula and Drogo (and somewhere along the line, Lobelia and Otho came by to ‘help’).

“Dear, all I’m saying is that you should let us stay with you. To protect you. A small woman, alone in her home with a bunch of randy _dwarves_ …why, who knows what could happen.”

Bella pulled two chickens from the oven, replacing them with several long loaves of bread. “No, Lobelia. Has it escaped your memory that I know how to defend myself? That I know these dwarves and have traveled across Middle Earth with them?”

“And look what happened Bella!” Silence. The blond hobbit didn’t know what to say to that. She opened and closed her mouth several times before Primula slammed the platter she was holding down onto the table.

“LOBELIA! How dare you!”

“How dare I what? How dare I look after my dearest friend?! I know you’re thinking about it too! You want to know as much as I why she‘s letting the beasts that took her child back into her life! I don’t want to see her hurt again! You didn’t-you didn’t see her last time…she would have faded if it wasn’t for-”

“-I think you’re getting too worked up, Lobelia. Either calm yourself and help or leave.” Bella’s voice was eerily soft as she spoke. When the redhead didn’t back down, Bella pointed to the door. Lobelia couldn’t believe her. Some dwarves pop in after years, batting their eyes and pouting and all of the sudden they are back in Bella’s good book…She huffed as she dragged her husband out of the smial, making sure to slam the door extra hard behind her.

And oh look, the ruffians were back…though why they were wearing those bulky cloaks on such a warm day was beyond her.

*

Bella sat at the table once the door had shut and pressed her hand to her eyes. She was already worried enough over what would happen today, she didn’t need Lobelia insulting her friends and her boys.

“Are you two going to yell at me for being foolish as well?” They frowned.

“Aunty, it’s not that we think you’re foolish…we just want you to be more careful. The last time you were with these dwarves…you came back and you weren’t the same. These dwarves changed you…” Primula said as she pulled her aunt’s hand away from her face, holding it in her lap.

“It was one dwarf. One who had succumbed to a sickness in his mind.”

“Then we trust you know what you are doing.”

The bell rang. “Oh that would be them. Drogo, dearest would you mind?”

“Not at all Aunty.”

*

**_“Tomorrow we go in little groups, Fíli and I will go first…”_ **

*

_“Oh hello lads, come on in.”_

_“Where’s Aunty?”_

_“In the kitchen fixing up some lunch. Are there not more of you coming?”_

_“Oh yes, they’ll be here in a little while.”_

Bella rolled her eyes. “Boots off boys!” she called.

_“Yes Aunty!”_

_“And I’ll take your cloaks-”_

_“-No-no Mister Hobbit. We have weaponry hidden away in these old things. If you aren’t careful you might cut off your fingers. We’ll take care of them, you go help Aunty.”_ Now that was interesting. Bella knew for a fact that the only one in her old company that could effectively hide anything in their cloak was Nori (for obvious reasons) Fíli preferred to have his weapons on his body and Kíli…well he was Kíli.

_“Uh, sure.”_ Drogo walked into the kitchen shaking his head and muttering ‘Boots. Vile things’. Primula tried not to laugh. It was rude, afterall…but a little giggle didn’t hurt. Bella smiled softly, telling the duo to ‘please fetch the box from the back room-yes that one, thank you my dears’. They walked off, not before giving Bella a concerned look.

Not three seconds after they left did Fíli and Kíli appear in the doorway-still wearing those cloaks mind you. She stood and embraced them. “Welcome back boys. I thought you were going to take of your cloaks?”

“It can wait another moment or two.” Fíli said.

Kíli agreed. “Yeah. We have something to show you first.”

“Oh?” Oh dear, they hadn’t accidentally picked some flowers from her garden, had they? Hamfast would never let her hear the end of it.

The younger brother nodded. “Y’see…there is someone who has been waiting to see you and we wanted to give you two some alone time…”

Her stomach dropped. They couldn’t possibly mean-no, she couldn’t see him yet.

(A not too deep down part of her disagreed. She _wanted_ to see him again. _Needed_ to. But not King Thorin Under the Mountain. Just her Thorin. Though, that meeting might end in some violence.)

“It’s okay Aunty, we’re right here. We’ll support you.” No. No, she couldn’t do this. “Ready?”

“Yes…” No.

They stepped apart from each other.  

From the time that she was forced out of Erebor to as recently as last night, Bella dreamt about her son. Not a day went by where he wasn’t in her thoughts…’what did he look like?’ ‘was he growing up alright?’ ‘did he know about her?’ or that mornings thoughts of ‘did he come with Fíli and Kíli?’ and ‘what was he going to do on his birthday tomorrow?’. There was never a day (except maybe the day and the first few after he was taken from her) where she felt that she would never see him again. There had always been this hope…she just never thought the day would come so soon!

When Fíli and Kíli parted, they revealed a small little boy wrapped in his own cloak. He was blond, like Bella and looked at her with the largest, most adoring blue eyes she had ever seen. “Mama?”

*

**_“And we’ll take Thráin with us. I don’t think he can wait any longer.”_ **

*

When she came to (when did she faint? Confound those dwarves, making her faint in her own home…again.) she was in her armchair. Primula and Drogo hovered over her, Fíli and Kíli a few steps away looking no less concerned, and beside her, looking down at his feet when she turned to him, was Thráin. He sniffed and shuffled his feet. “I sowry Mama.”

She slid off of the armchair (oh dear, her legs didn’t seem to be working…) and pulled her boy into her arms. “Oh my little one, you did nothing wrong. Mama was just surprised, darling.” She pressed a kiss to his curls (he had curls!), and another, and another.

“Not mad?”

“Of course not.”

“Miss’d you, Mama.”

“I missed you too, my love.” When did she start crying?

Thráin buried his little head in her neck and she held him tighter. Primula and Drogo wisely walked into the kitchen, well…Drogo walked into the kitchen and wisely dragged Primula along with him. Bella and her boys needed some time by themselves. And-No Primula no eavesdropping.

“Boys, thankyou-thankyouthankyou! You don’t-you don’t know what this means to me! H-how…why now?” She asked as she stroked her son’s hair.

Fíli knelt down, ruffling Thráin’s hair. “Well…See this little guy wanted one thing for his birthday-”

“S’ t’morrow. Didn’ forget, mama?” The hobbit woman laughed.

“No, love of course I didn’t.”

“-Anyway, he’s only wanted on thing for his birthday for years.”

Thráin removed his head from her neck and nuzzled their faces together. “Mama!”

“And with Uncle’s head finally being clear for the first time in years…well…here we are.” Kíli finished. He shrugged his shoulders as if that explained the entire story.

“Clear? You mean…?” The boys nodded. “Is he…is he here?”

“Yes. But he will not come if you do not want him here.”

And there it was. Did she want him here? Could she handle it? What if he wasn’t her Thorin and he tried to take her baby again? She couldn’t live through that again.

**_Knock Knock._ **


	4. Chapter 4

_“There you are, Namadith. A nice cup of tea made just the way you like.” Bella took the cup, placing it on her heavily swollen stomach. Little pleasures like these were few and far between nowadays. The tea, to be clear. The King wanted her healthy, but that did not mean he was allowing her to be happy, or even content. But her dwarves tried._

_“You always call me that Dori. What does it mean?”_

_The tone of her voice made Dori falter. “Nothing unflattering I assure you so stop giving me that look.” He bit the inside of his cheek, wondering if it would be inappropriate for him to explain such a private aspect of his culture to someone labeled a traitor-it was- before deciding to just tell her. “It means…it means younger sister.”_

**_*_ **

**_“Now see here! Bella’s our sister! (Here, many dwarves looked on in surprise) We demand to see her first-”_ **

**_“-After the young prince, of course.” Ori interrupted his elder brothers. For as much as he wanted to see his big (or was it younger? She technically was twenty years younger than him. But hobbits age differently so who knows) sister, he did want to give her time with her son._ **

**_“OI, she was my best friend before she was yer sister! In fact, she was_ my _sister before she was yer sister!” Bofur yelled._**

**_Dori narrowed his eyes. “Then where were you when she cried herself to sleep? Where were you when the Prince was pressed so hard against her bladder, back, and sides that she couldn’t even sit up on her own-let alone get up to relieve herself! Why weren’t you there?!”_ **

**_“Don’t ye dare say I wasn’t there for ‘er! I came as often as I could, bringin’ her food an’ furs an’ I sat by her side for hours on end. Where were_ you _at the beginnin’ o’ the journey then? When we took a poor hobbit lass from her home to bring her face-to-face with a_ dragon _. Where were ye when she couldn’t sleep, couldn’t fight, an’ couldn’t even ride properly? Oh that’s right, ye were making fun o’ ‘er!”_**

**_Several of the hobbits around them looked at their table. A hard look from both Dwalin and Nori made them look away. Bifur tugged Bofur back into his seat, taking his clenched fists into his hands and slowly uncurling them._ **

**_“This is no competition.” Fíli said, tone heavy with disapproval._ **

**_“If it’s such a big deal you four can come next.”_ **

“Oh! That’ll be Bofur, Dori, Nori, and Ori.” Kíli said with a grin.  A weight lifted from Bella’s shoulders. She wouldn’t have to see Thorin yet.

While the dark haired prince went to open the door, Bella’s eyes drifted towards the Hall where a large box (more like a crate really) now sat. She smiled. Not too far away, she heard Drogo and Primula arguing.

_‘Prim! Don’t go so fast!’_

_‘But Drogo! I want to see Thráin’s face when he sees what’s inside-’_

_‘He can wait a few more minutes! You’re going to drop this on my foot!’_ So they were bringing out the chest too? What sweet cousins. She would definitely reward them once her legs were working properly again.

“Boots off! You know that!” There was a shuffle and a curse or two and then there were four new dwarves running to her armchair. The first to reach her was Dori. Sweet Dori who sat by her side every day of her pregnancy and helped her through Thráin’s birth (the one who let her hold her baby for the first time). He wrapped his arms around her in a tight, familiar hug.

“Namadith, I have missed you.” He whispered into her hair. She grinned, shifting Thráin so she could him and her brother without hurting him.

“And I you, my dear brother.” Three more pairs of arms surrounded her, Nori’s hair was awkwardly pressing against her head, Ori pressed his face into her neck, and Bofur tucked her head under his chin. It was incredibly awkward, especially with Thráin still wedged in the center, but Bella wouldn’t want this moment to go any other way.

*

It doesn’t take Dori long to notice that there’s something wrong with Bella. He manages to get her standing-though her legs are too wobbly for their liking-and gets her sorted in her chair. She whispered something in his ear. Dori went off and dragged the crate to Bella’s side and then walked down the hall to take the chest from Bella’s cousins.  

“Thráin, I have something for you.” She whispered. Thráin looked up at her with wide green eyes. Bella chuckled. “Go and see what’s inside that chest.”

The child was reluctant to get off her lap, but curiosity got the better of him and he slid down, toddling over to the chest. He looked at it for a long while before hefting the lid open.

The little gasp he made will forever be ingrained in Bella’s mind.

“Mama…” He took out toys and clothes and blankets by the armful. He stared at each hand-stitched animal, curled himself in every blanket, and inspected every article of clothing with no small amount of wonder. “Pretty!” He yelled as he pulled out a blue blanket. His fingers trailed over the images of fish and plants, memorizing each stitch. “Mine?”

Bella nodded. “Yes love, all of its yours. This,” she said, lifting a toy rabbit “was for your first birthday. This blanket,” she touched the ends of the blue blanket. “I made during the last winter.”

The toddler eyes welled with tears. He hopped into his mother’s arms and demanded that she tell him about every item. Bella did so with a smile.

On the other side of the room Kíli was cracking his knuckles. “I’m gonna kill him.” He said with a slow shake of his head. “I’m gonna punch him in the face, torture him, and then I’m gonna kill him.”

“No you aren’t.” Ori told him.

“Oh yes I am.”

“An’ I’m gonna help ye.” Bofur fingered his pickaxe.

*

By the time the next round of knocks was heard, Bella was standing with Thrain perched on her hip. She opened the door with a timid smile and was greeted to the sight of a bald headed dwarf bowing to her. The years had given Dwalin more gray hairs and more tattoos (and a few more wrinkles, but don’t tell him that) but other than that the tall dwarf looked the same.

“Dwalin, at yer service, My Lady.”

“Bella Baggins, at yours.” Dwalin stood, pulling the hobbit into a tight embrace. “Ye look good, lass.” _Surprisingly good, considering._ She smiled. Once she was released from his grip, Bella was pulled into another embrace. Bifur mumbled incomprehensible khuzdul into her hair, careful to not get his axe twisted in her curls (that had happened once before, in Mirkwood. That was not something that they wanted to repeat). “Bifur!”

*

They went back to the receiving room. Fíli and Ori and Bofur were playing a game with Thráin and Primula and his new toys. Dori and Kíli and Nori were looking over the contents of the chest, muttering to each other every few seconds. Kíli came over to the trio and dragged the other two dwarves to the chest. Bella didn’t pay attention to what they were talking about, though, for she went to the group playing on the floor and joined in.

“Auntie Bella,” Drogo called after who knows how long. “Lunch is ready!”  

*

Lunch was as loud and messy as meals with dwarves often are. The dwarves and little Thráin tossed food to each other (Bofur managed to catch a biscuit in his mouth; Kíli tried to catch a chicken leg but it ended up bouncing off his forehead). Bella and Prim smiled at the sight while poor Drogo sat in his chair eating his meal with every ounce of propriety instilled in him.  Truly it made a sight. But to Bella it was perfect (well, almost perfect if she was being completely honest).

Of _course_ something was going mess it all up.

That something was three heavy knocks at the door.

The room fell silent. “He’s here.” Someone whispered. Kíli tried to get up and answer the door, but he was forced back into his seat by both Ori and Dori when he picked up his knife.

“Namadith, you stay here. I want to have a few words with our esteemed leader.” Dori said in that tone of his that left no room for arguing. Not that Bella was going to argue. The knowledge that Thorin was on the other side of her little green door was as daunting as it was exciting.

*

When the company had left that morning, Thorin rushed off to the market. When they had departed from Erebor, he had not brought many gifts for Bella. He brought her furs, and a mithril circlet and ring that he intended to resize and redesign for her to (hopefully) wear on their return journey home (and back in the kingdom). He sought forgiveness, though he knew he did not deserve it, and it would not come if he buried his beloved under a pile of gems and metals. He would seek forgiveness the hobbit way, with food and flowers.  

There were only two problems with that though: his food left much to be desired, and he did not know a thing about flowers.

Perhaps, if the hobbits were a little more welcoming to him he would be able to ask for help.

“’Lo Mister Train’s Daddy!” The little girl from the day before came tumbling over to him, with her brother in tow. Today they were dressed in shades of deep blue and gold, the little girl’s-Laurel-hair braided at her temple and pinned at the back of her head. Not very hobbit-y colors, but it suited them. Some hobbits looked lovely in blue…

_“Bella! Where did you get that dress?” Ori asked as she walked into the dining room. It was a rich blue, elvish style dress trimmed in gold. Her breasts were a little too constricted, and the fabric at her waist too loose, but the dress still flowed beautifully and she looked radiant now that she was clean and properly groomed._

_“Lord Elrond gave it to me. It was made for my mother, when she was here.”_

_“You look-”_

_“-Wow! Bella you look lovely! Still not enough hair on your face for my liking, but I’m not complaining!”_

_“Thank you, Kíli.” The hobbit replied; more amused than annoyed._

_And she was lovely. Thorin would not say that seeing her in his color made him fall for her, because that would not be true. But he would say that seeing the fair creature with the golden hair and the milky breasts caused heat to rush through his veins._

_*_

_“Put it on.”_

_“Thorin, I’m not wearing your tunic.”_

_“Hob-_ Bella _, until we get to Gandalf’s friend’s you will need something that isn’t torn to shreds. It’s only a day or two.”_

_“It’s not torn to shreds, it’s got two holes in it, but if it will stop your fussing I’ll wear your tunic-two days at most!” With that she snatched the garment from his hand and wandered off into the trees._

_When she came back, Thorin’s breath caught. The tunic hung off of her shoulders almost comically, her little sunburnt shoulder poking out at the neck, the sleeves hanging longer than her arms, and a rope tied at her waist in an attempt to put it in order._

_“I look ridiculous.” She proclaimed. And perhaps she did, to the others. But to Thorin…_

_“You look lovely.”_

_*_

_When Bella’s cold had finally started to die down, and the constant worry that she might be claimed by the sickness had subsided, Thorin ventured off into Lake-town to commission her a new coat. The tailor had several fabrics, some were brighter than others, some were patterned, and some were too old to make anything useful. Thorin picked a pattern-less blue for the outside and a thicker gray for the inner lining. When the tailor asked for measurements, the dwarf handed him Bella’s spare shirt and told him to make it ‘a wee bit smaller than that’. (The tailor was not impressed)_

_When he presented the finished product to the hobbit a few days later she almost burst into tears. Had he done something wrong? Did she not like it? But those thoughts were forced aside when she kissed him soundly, proclaiming the coat to be perfect and how sweet it was of him to get it._

_“Why blue though?”_

_Thorin shrugged. “I like seeing you in blue, it suits you.”_

Pushing these thought’s aside, Thorin knelt in front of the children. “Hello Miss Laurel, Mister Basil. I need some help finding flowers. Would you two be kind enough to help me?”

The two nodded, leading him to a large stand that was surrounded by buckets of flowers. “Wat you want?” Basil asked softly.

“Well, I’ve upset someone and I want to say ‘I’m Sorry’.”

“Miss Train’s Mummy?” Basil asked.

Thorin nodded. “Yes. She likes flowers and would probably have my head if I gave her the wrong ones.” _If she isn’t already out for my head._ No sooner had the sentence ended did the children rush off picking flowers. Uncle Otho gets these for Aunty Lobelia when he upsets her, they explain as they pick up two handfuls of purple flowers. Basil picked up a few red flowers, claiming he had seen Uncle Drogo give these to Aunty Prim. She gets happy and giggly they say, and is a lot more fun because she’s not huffing or grumbling.

“Oh! Mummy like dese.” Laurel grabbed a few pale blue flowers. Then she picked up a few droopy purple flowers (at this point Thorin was sure that the children were picking flowers simply because they looked pretty and not for their meanings, but they were hobbits and more knowledgeable than him, even if they were just babes, don’t let Dwalin get wind of that.). Some more flowers were thrown into the mix, little pale yellow ones, one red rose, and all were tied together with a leaf.

Hobbits.

He paid for the bouquet of miscellaneous flowers (it looked like Ori’s paint pallet had spilled over and turned into flowers), giving the hobbit lady a hard look when she glared at him. Honestly! The last time he had come to the shire, the hobbits were all smiles! Timid, but welcoming none the less!

“Thank you, children.” He then asked them to take him to the bakery where he bought them enough sweets to make their mother come chasing after him with her rolling pin. In his defense, he could think of no better reward for such helpful fauntlings.

Bidding the children goodbye he made his way to Bag End-and he only lost his way once, thank you very much!

As he stepped closer to the green door he felt unease settle in his stomach. Would she cast him away? Yell and scream at him until her throat was sore? She had every right to, and Thorin would not fault her if she did, but Thorin would rather avoid such a confrontation.

The door looked the same as it had all those years before. The only difference now was it was not night, and there was a bush of those pale blue flowers in his bouquet on either side of the door.

He knocked three times, and waited.

And waited.

The king had been bracing himself for his hobbit to answer the door. So when Dori opened it instead, he wasn’t sure if he should count it as a blessing or not.

The silver haired dwarf took one look at his face and the flowers in his hands before stepping out of the way to let him in.

“One thing. If you say or do one thing to upset her, I will throttle you. I do not care that you are the King. My loyalty to her means more to me than my loyalty to the crown.”

“And yet you have stayed by my side for six years.” It was cruel, but he couldn’t help it, the words just slipped out. “Tell me, what has happened to change your opinion?”

“Wait and see.” Dori hissed.

*

Bella could hear voices. She could hear voice but she couldn’t understand what was being said. Thráin, however, heard his father’s voice and went running to find him. Bella could hear him shouting at Thorin ‘Look Daddy! Found Mama! Look! Hurry!’

“I’m coming, Thráin.” They were closer now. Oh Dear Yavanna she wasn’t ready. Perhaps if she went to her room and came back in the morning she would be ready. No, she wouldn’t be ready. She would try and push it off for another week. Better get it over with now…

Thráin came into the room first screeching “Look! ‘S Mama! SEE!” with a tug of his tiny arm he pulled his father into the room.

The last time she had seen Thorin his face had been blank, and his eyes had been angry and glassy from the gold sickness. This Thorin’s eyes were glassy-though not from sickness, this was the glassy look of tears yet to be shed-, his face was too pale save for the purple circles under his eyes, and his hair and beard were scruffier and grayer than the last she had seen him. He looked like picture of absolute misery. Bella’s heart ached. _This_ was her Thorin. This was the miserable version of the man she’d fallen in love with, not the monster who had nearly killed her and had taken her child.

“I see.” His voice was just as deep as it been before (really Bella, it was rather unlikely that his voice would change). Thráin pulled him further into the room until they were standing in front of Bella. Thráin crawled back onto her lap. “Oh Bella.” Only twice had Bella seen Thorin cry. The first time had been right after she had awoken in Lake Town, apparently Óin had said that there was little he could do for her except give her a tonic three times a day and wait. The second time had been when he sent her into the mountain to face Smaug. Both times, the dwarf King’s tears brought tears to her own eyes. This was no different.

“Bella Baggins, I have wronged you in the worst way and for that I am so, so sorry. I will not claim gold sickness as my excuse. I should have been stronger than it. I should have never let anything happen to you, and I never should have caused you any pain, and for that I will never forgive myself.” Here he sunk to his knees and place the bouquet in her lap. Bella lifted it with shaky hands. She, just like Prim and Drogo, stared at the flowers in shock. “I shall spend the rest of my life endeavoring to gain your forgiveness. I start by reuniting you with our son, and one of many bouquets of flowers I intend to give. I…” the dwarf stopped, deciding that whatever it was he wanted to say was better left unsaid, opting to stare at the wood at the hobbit’s feet.

Bella had a hard time listening to the rest of Thorin’s apology speech. She was too focused on the flowers in front of her. Apologies, pain, sincerity, _love_ … surely her dwarf didn’t know what they meant.

She did hear when he stopped talking. It took her a few moments to compose her thoughts enough to come up with a response.

“For six years I have dreamt of this moment, I came up with long speeches, arguments we might have, actions we might do…but now that the moment is here and _real_ I find I cannot remember any of it. I cannot think of a thing to say…and certainly none of my scenarios involved you giving my such a…meaningful bouquet. You must give me a moment.” Thorin nodded.

Dozens and dozens of thoughts rushed through her head. Yet she could not focus on one. She wanted to be able to trust Thorin again, but putting her trust in him so soon…

“Forgiveness and trust must be earned and while I am eternally grateful for bringing Thráin to me, and I appreciate the sentiment of the flowers I cannot simply believe that you mean everything they mean.”

Thorin looked up, locking their gaze. “Whatever feelings the flowers express, I can assure you that I mean every word.”

“And if they mean something unkind?” The king did not say anything. Bella sighed. “None of the flowers mean anything unkind. But do you see my point? You and I have many issues and things we need to talk about before we can be anywhere near where we were before.”

“I agree.” Truly, he had expected something like this to happen. And it was honestly far better than he deserved or had hoped for.

Bella smiled. “Good. We’ll chat after Lunch. There are some things I wish to tell you, but it has waited six years, it can wait another hour. Go on take a seat and start eating.” The king did as he was told. Once he started filling his plate, the others took it as a cue to continue their own meal. Some introductions were made, Thorin got a particularly queer look on his face when Drogo and Prim introduced themselves, and Prim only tried killing him with her stare once, so all in all it went rather well.

The blonde hobbit got up for a few minutes to put the flowers in water. When she sat back down she looked at Thorin, who was next to her trying to coax Thráin to eat a bun sandwich of mashed potatoes, ham, and applesauce. Bella raised a brow.

“I told him if he made it, he had to eat it.”

“Ah.” Thrain did eat it, and three more like it. Many of the adults laughed.

“He’s very hobbit-y.” Drogo said.

“You have no idea.”

Finishing her own meal, Bella turned to Thorin. “I’m curious. How did you know to get those flowers?” The last she knew, the dwarf was about as good at the language of flowers as she was the language of gems (which is to say: utter rubbish). Granted, Bella didn’t think _all_ the flowers he had given her were exactly appropriate for an apology bouquet, but she appreciated the attempt and the sentiment.

“Oh, two little faunts helped me. Basil and Laurel, their names are. Do you know them?”

The hobbits went pale. Drogo dropped his fork with a loud clatter and Prim choked on the roll that was in her mouth.

“Y-you’ve met Laurel and Basil?” The king nodded. The rest of her dwarves looked at her in curiosity. Only Dori pinned her with a different look. One that made her think she was a puzzle he was determined to solve. “O-oh yes, I know them. They…they’re…they’re family.”

Someone-probably Nori-snorted; saying how at least half of the Shire had to be related in one way or another and he wasn’t surprised.

*

The dwarves cleaned the kitchen, much to Bella’s chagrin. They were her guests after all.

“I don’t see why you lot think you have to clean this mess.” She grumbled. Dori patted her hand.

“It will be a lot faster and you know it, namadith. Why don’t you go and play with Thráin.” If anyone were to ask the hobbit, she would say that the suggestion sounded a lot more like an order. Had it been any other day, Bella would have told Dori that this was her home, and he would do well not to order her around, thank you very much. But for now, there was a little boy who she was sure would enjoy a retelling of the earlier parts of her adventure.

*

Finding Thráin had been easy enough. He was on his father’s lap in the sitting room, telling Thorin about all of the items Bella had made just for him. In his hands, the boy held the blue blanket and a yellow stuffed bear that had most definitely _not_ been in the chest-which meant that Lobelia and Otho hadn’t finished cleaning before they left. Bella kept her mouth shut and tried not to panic.

It was Thorin who saw her first, expression unreadable. “You made him all of this?”

“Of course I did!” Did he really need to ask? Thráin was her son. Separation didn’t mean that she didn’t love him, or think about him.

“Peace, Bella. I meant no offence.” 

She decided to ignore him, instead going to the crate and pulling out several smaller packages. Each of her dwarves got one, even Thorin.

They looked at her, questions in their eyes. “There were days when I locked myself in my room for hours and all I would do was sew or knit. Lobelia was always angry with me because I had…other responsibilities. I don’t think she ever quite understood what I was going through…” Bella trailed off, staring at something in the distance. After staring for more than a minute, the dwarves became uncomfortable and Drogo gently coaxed Bella out of it in a way that spoke of lots of practice. “Ah, sorry about that.” She clapped her hands. “Well, go on-open them! They aren’t going to open themselves!”

Ori received a matching set of gloves, a hat, a new jumper, and a scarf all in Shire patterns and a thick blanket with a knitted top; Dori received an elaborately embroidered cloak, new cozies for his tea pots, a blanket, and a set of silk handkerchiefs with his name embroidered on them; Nori pulled out a large tunic with several hidden pockets, a vest made in the same fashion, a new towel, and a thick hood large enough to fit over his hair; Bifur received a handmade stuffed dog (that didn’t really look like a dog, but he loved it anyway), a thick scarf embroidered with flowers, a new hood, and new gloves with flowers that were almost invisible stitched along the seams; Bofur got a thick coat that was actually too big on him, he snickered when he pulled out a doily, and a small bag with his name on it; The largest thing made for Dwalin was a hat and a new hood, the rest was all smaller things like socks (because he complained far too many times on their quest), coverings for his axes, polishing cloths, and a long scarf (maybe a little too long) with his name on it; Fíli and Kíli received large parcels filled with two hobbit style outfits, simple cloaks with their names on them, little stuffed animals, hats, gloves, and kitted blankets (that they immediately wrapped around themselves).

Thorin received one thing (and honestly, he was more surprised at Bella actually making him something than hurt at it being just the one): a beautiful cloak of Durin blue with his name embroidered in silver. Along the edge was a depiction of their journey, also in silver, but “You stopped it at Rivendell.” There was nothing in his voice but curiosity and awe.

“Well, I tried to continue, but I just…I couldn’t.” She almost shrinks into herself, but Thorin sends a small smile.

“It’s superb, Bella.” Bella smiled in thanks, but offered nothing more.

“Are they acceptable apology gifts?”

“Apology gifts?” Several dwarves whispered. Was it some weird hobbit tradition?

“Namadith,” Dori said as he crouched in front of her, taking a lock of her golden hair and tucking it behind her ear. “It is not you who should be giving apology gifts. It is us who should be lavishing you in them.”

But Bella shook her head. “No, trust me. I should be giving them to you. You see, I’ve been keeping something from all of you. Something…something important.” She swallowed. There was no simple way to say what she needed to tell them that she had-

The front door slammed open. “Mummy! We t’aw a _dwarf_ t’day! An’ we gots ‘im f’owers an’ he gots us _cookies_. But-um-Basil eated mine Mummy!” Two little faunts dressed in blue and gold came running into the receiving room and straight into Bella’s open arms.

“Did he now?”

“Nuh-uh!”

“Laurel, are you telling the truth?” The little girl shifted before turning her stare to the floor and shaking her head. “Laurel Baggins, you know lying is naughty. Apologize.” The girl apologized quietly, which was happily accepted by her brother. “Why aren’t you at the Gamgee’s? You were supposed to stay until Uncle Drogo picked you up.”

“Missed you!”

Fíli and Kíli found their way to her sides. “Um, Auntie? You’ve got two faunts here claiming you’re their mum.”

Somewhere in the background, Drogo groaned and Primula laughed. “That’s because I _am_ their mother. This was the important thing I was trying to tell you about. Thorin, meet our youngest children Basil and Laurel Baggins.”

*

   _“Oh Bell, your arms! Why-what’s that?” Lobelia forced her way into the bedroom and to the corner where a little cradle sat. Inside were two extremely tiny babes. “Bell, your children are right here, and they look sick!”_

_“No-no-no! My baby, my firstborn! Lobelia he took my firstborn!”_

_“You birthed three?”_

_Bella nodded. And then she began to cry._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now, how many of you saw that coming? 
> 
> And before anyone asks, Bella wasn't apologizing to Thorin, but to the others. 
> 
> Supposedly, the meanings of the flowers are as followed (and I have very little knowledge on flowers, but I looked up their meanings on three different sites and basically got the same things):  
> RED CARNATIONS: my heart aches for you (The flowers Drogo is seen giving to Primula)  
> PURPLE HYACINTHS: I’M SORRY  
> FERN: sincerity  
> FORGET ME NOTS: memories  
> IRIS: hope  
> PRIMROSE: I can’t live without you  
> (One) ROSE RED: I still love you
> 
> come visit me on tumblr: fate-unknown.tumblr.com come and say hi or ask me questions or even give me prompts!


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